


Stay and the night would be enough

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hope, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Death, Sharing a Bed, humour too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 05:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11479944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: Things haven't been going well for Steve; he lost his apartment and his job as well as still trying to cope with the death of his mother. Crashing on his friend's couch soon leads to something more for him and Clint's roommate, who shares more with Steve than they both would have expected.





	Stay and the night would be enough

"Thank you, Clint. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," Steve said.

Clint shook his head; he was wearing a pair of purple pyjama pants and a faded Runaways t-shirt. "Not a problem, dude. Here, let me give you a hand." He stepped out into the hall and picked up one of Steve's three bags.

Steve followed Clint into his small apartment and closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry I came over so late."

"Steve, it's not a problem," Clint said, setting Steve's bags on the floor of the living room/kitchen. "I just wish I could do more. There's nothing that can be done legally about your place?"

Steve sighed. "Nope. The new owners kicked us all out. There was nothing in the old contract saying that they couldn't."

"That sucks," Clint hissed in disgust. "If I owned an entire apartment building, I'd make sure I cut people a break."

Steve sat down on the couch and scratched his neck. "Yeah well, you're a decent human being."

Clint put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You'll be alright. You can stay as long as you need. I mean that. I'm really sorry I can't do better than offer you the couch to sleep on though."

"You're doing more than enough. Are you sure your roommate won't mind?"

Clint placed a stack of blankets, pillows and a few towels next to Steve. "Nah, he keeps himself to himself at the best of times. Besides, it's my apartment. I'm sorry Steve, but I've got an early shift in the morning so I need to get some sleep. The bathroom is down the hall, help yourself to anything on the bottom two shelves in the fridge and try not to stress, okay? Get a good night's sleep; we'll figure things out."

Steve forced himself to smile. "I'll try. Thanks again, Clint."

" _ De nada _ . Goodnight, buddy." He padded off down the hall.

Steve looked around forlornly. Well, he was officially homeless. The three bags he had with him contained everything that he needed that didn't have to go into storage. It felt weird to think that all of the furniture he owned as well as most of his possessions - his kitchen stuff, his art supplies, his books - were all sitting in some dark little room somewhere. He had a good amount of clothes and his most treasured belongings with him but it wasn't the same. He had loved his apartment; it had been small but light and cheerful and the first place in a long time that had ever really felt like home to him. He suddenly wanted to cry but what good would that do him? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then started to assemble the couch into his bed.

This wouldn't all feel as bad but Steve had recently lost his job too. It was like some crappy domino effect. He had enough money to see him through for a little while but right now? Right now he was just tired of being strong and positive like he usually would be. Right now he just wanted to feel sorry for himself.

Steve looked at his phone; it was 12:35am. He got ready for bed and padded quietly down the hall to the bathroom. Clint's bedroom door was closed and so was his room mate's. Steve didn't know much about Clint's room mate but he didn't want to piss him off, even if Clint owned the apartment. He went to the toilet and brushed his teeth and then went back to the living room and turned off the lamp. He climbed under the covers and lay in the dark for a long time, sleep feeling like it was a long way off. Steve had to curl up a little on Clint's couch - he was 6"2 - and it took him a while to find a comfortable sleeping position.

It was quiet in Clint's neighborhood, not like Steve's (former) apartment in Brooklyn; he missed the noise of cars and people. His stomach was a mess of knots and worry and  _ what ifs _ but he somehow managed to fall asleep sometime after 4am.

***

Steve awoke, groggy and a little confused, to find a guy with shaggy brown hair frowning down at him. Clint's room mate, he guessed. It was morning, sunlight flooding the combined living room and kitchen.

"Hi," Steve croaked, adjusting the blanket over himself so he was covered and hopefully not flashing the guy. "Clint's letting me crash here until I can find a new place. I won't get in your way."

The guy shrugged. "Fine by me." He walked away into the kitchen.

Steve struggled to sit up, wincing as his neck cricked. "I'm Steve."

"Bucky," the guy said as he poured coffee into a travel mug. He pulled on his jacket and left the apartment.

Steve blinked. Okay, so try not to piss  _ that _ guy off. He stared at the closed door for a moment and then flopped back onto the couch. He guessed he should get up and start looking for another job but his heart wasn't in it; if he tried this morning, he'd most likely just get even more depressed by his situation and beat himself up even more. He sighed and decided to have a shower, get some breakfast and then clean the apartment. It was the least he could do.

He picked up one of the towels that Clint had left for him and padded to the bathroom. It was small and neat with two towels on the towel rack and an assortment of toothbrushes and cologne on the shelf under the mirror.

Steve stood for longer than he usually would under the hot spray, using a small amount of the shower gel and shampoo in the shower rack (he would take a trip to the grocery store later and buy his own stuff) and closed his eyes.

When he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he scrubbed the shower and sink, poured some bleach into the toilet and wiped the small smattering of stubble, no doubt from someone’s morning shave, from the rim of the sink. He got dressed and found a mop and bucket in one of the kitchen cupboards. He mopped the bathroom and kitchen floor and vacuumed the living room and hallway. He didn’t want to intrude on anyone’s personal space so he left the bedrooms alone. The kitchen wasn’t particularly untidy just because it was so small, but he wiped down the counters and washed the small amount of dishes in the sink (one coffee cup and a bowl) and tidied them away.

After that, Steve was at a loss as to what to do. He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV but after two minutes turned it back off again. A feeling of utter hopelessness was starting to creep over him. He’d been trying his damnedest to remain positive about his situation but at the moment, he just wanted his mom and he couldn’t; Sarah Rogers had died three years ago and right now Steve felt more alone than he’d ever been.

“I need to get out of here,” he said to himself and left the apartment to pick up some groceries.

***

Clint and Bucky arrived home at the same time that evening.

“Oooh, what’s this?” Clint said, eyeing the food on the small kitchen table. Bucky didn’t say a word but put his bag down and peered at the guacamole with something that Steve hoped was interest.

Steve put a bowl of salad down next to the rice. “I wanted to make dinner for you guys, as a thank you for letting me stay here. I know it’s awkward but until I get things sorted, I just...thank you.” He twisted the dish towel he was holding in his hands.

Clint smiled. “Dude, it’s not a problem. I’d hope that my friends would do the same for me. And hey, if you want to make chilli for us every night, I won’t complain. This looks  _ amazing _ .”

“Dig in whenever you’re ready,” Steve said and Clint chirped happily and picked up a bowl.

Bucky gave Steve a grateful nod and picked one up too.

The three of them sat and ate in the living room and it was kind of nice. There was nothing but trash on the TV and Steve and Clint chatted about what they were watching. Bucky ate quietly and Steve was happy when he went for seconds. When he was finished, he started up to take his bowl to the kitchen.

“Please leave the dishes. I’ll do them,” Steve said and Bucky put his bowl on the coffee table.

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight.” He left the living room and walked down the hall. His bedroom door closed.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Steve said to Clint quietly.

Clint raised an eyebrow as he scooped up some chilli with his corn bread. “What makes you say that?”

Steve shrugged. “I just get that feeling.”

“Buck’s a good guy; he’s just a little quiet. Believe me, he can’t not like you yet – he doesn’t even know you. If he seems standoffish, that’s just him. I wouldn’t live with him if he was an asshole.”

“Oh. I thought he was annoyed at me for sleeping on the couch.”

Clint put his empty bowl on the coffee table and burped softly. “I asked him if he was okay with me helping out a friend and he didn’t hesitate in saying yes. He’s a tough nut to crack, I’ll say that but we’ve had a few pizza and beer nights and he’s opened up.”

Steve smiled, relieved. “That’s good to know.” He gathered the empty bowls and glasses and took them to the kitchen.

Clint heaved himself up and followed. “You wash, I’ll dry. So, have you started job hunting?”

Steve sighed as he plunged his hands into the soapy water. “No. I’ll go to the library tomorrow. I just needed a day to get my head around everything.”

“Dude, you can use my laptop. You don’t have to use _public_ _computers,_ jeez.”

Steve chuckled. “Thanks but it makes me feel like I’m being more productive. I may even look through some newspapers. Remember those?”

Clint laughed and put the cutlery away. “You’ll get back on your feet, Steve.”

“I hope so,” Steve said quietly.

***

For the next few days, Steve went to the library to look for jobs but the longer he looked, the more depressed he became. It seemed like every job he applied for was suddenly filled, rejections coming back no sooner had he emailed or called. The universe seemed to be having a good laugh at his expense. Bucky and Clint had both been working a lot and hadn’t been around as much so he had a lot of time to mope on his own. One morning he woke up maudlin and decided not to go to the library again. His back was starting to hurt from the way he was sleeping on Clint’s couch but he would never say anything; that would just be ungrateful. He blinked into the living room for a moment and then sat up with a groan, stretching the crick out of his spine. He sighed and rubbed his face.

“Bad night?”

Steve started and turned to look into the small kitchen area. Bucky was at the counter making his morning coffee. Steve hadn’t even realized.

Steve stood up and rubbed his neck. “Bad few days.”

Bucky held up a mug. “Want a cup?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Bucky nodded and poured him some. “Cream? Sugar?”

Steve sat at one of the stools next to the counter. “Just cream, please.”

Bucky got some creamer from the fridge and poured. “Any luck finding a job?”

Steve was happy that Bucky was talking to him, glad that Clint had been right. He was just quiet. “Not yet. I just want to find something so I can give Clint a little rent. I hate not being able to pay my way.”

“Clint understands,” Bucky said and sipped his own coffee.

Steve wrapped his hands around his mug. “I know.” He chuffed. “Been feeling sorry for myself the last few days. I need to snap out of it.”

Bucky leaned against the counter. “You’ve had a rough time. I think you’re allowed a little self-pity.”

“I’m not a big fan of it.”

“Who is?”

They were silent for a moment before Bucky put his mug in the sink. “I need to get going. See you later.”

“Thanks for the coffee,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded and left the apartment. Steve sighed into the silence; he needed to do something positive. He had been an active runner a while back but had let it fall by the wayside when things with his mom had gotten bad. He washed his and Bucky’s mugs and went to find something he could wear for a jog.

An hour later, Steve returned to the apartment covered in sweat, every muscle aching, his lungs heaving.

He felt great.

He had forgotten how amazing a good run could make him feel; his head was a little clearer and despite how out of practice he was, he felt more positive. He knew one run wouldn’t suddenly make everything better, not by a long shot, but as he stood under the hot spray of the shower and hummed to himself, thought that maybe everything wasn’t all bad.

He went to the grocery store and bank after breakfast and made some cookies from scratch. It was the first day in a while that he actually felt content.

Clint came home first that evening. “Wow, what’s that smell?” he said, kicking his shoes off and wondering to the plate in the kitchen.

“Help yourself,” Steve said, wiping the last remnant of flour from the counter. “They’re cherry and coconut.”

Clint bit into one and immediately made a noise that was a little too sexual. “Oh my  _ god _ ,” he said. “You can live here forever if you make these every other day.”

Steve smiled, glad his cookies were a hit and took an envelope out of his back pocket. “I’d rather give you this.”

Clint looked into the envelope and frowned at the wad of notes. “No. No way.” He thrust the envelope back at Steve.

“But-”

“Steve, I appreciate you trying to give me this but I don’t want you to have to worry, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate without thinking that you have to throw rent at me.  _ Please  _ just accept my offer to stay here until you’re back on your feet. If you want to clean up the place, go for it but don’t feel like it’s something you have to do. If you want to bake more of these, I will not stop you.” He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re my friend and I want to help.”

Steve bit his lip. “Thank you, Clint.” He could feel the tears welling. “I’m stuck.”

Clint hugged him. “I know, buddy. It won’t be forever.”

They parted and Steve hastily wiped his eyes. “So, enjoy the cookies. I’ll make more.”

The front door opened and Bucky walked in. Steve smiled and held up a hand. Bucky just nodded and headed to his room before Steve could offer him any cookies. He was a little disappointed; he had enjoyed talking to Bucky that morning.

Clint must have noticed. “Hey, don’t take it personally. He has his reasons.”

Steve took some cold cuts and a tomato from the fridge. “We had a nice conversation this morning. I was hoping it would stick.”

“It will.”

***

Four days later and Steve’s back was killing him. He had tried every which way to sleep comfortably to no avail. There was no room on the living room floor for even a single airbed let alone trying to spread out the couch cushions. And, because Steve was an idiot, he didn’t want to offend Clint by complaining about the only bed that was available and he didn’t want Clint to see him on the floor when he left for work. He’d already done enough for Steve and there was no way in hell that Steve was going to let him do any more.

Deep down, he was also punishing himself. He knew he had no reason to – nothing that had happened had been his fault – but that was just his way.

The moment Clint left for work, Steve had heaved himself to his feet and winced as pain spread through his lower back. He hoped that his daily runs would help but he couldn’t keep this up.

“You know, Clint won’t be offended if you tell him his couch sucks.” Bucky walked through the living room to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee.

Steve rubbed his lower back and smiled weakly, caught in the act. “I don’t think I’m in a position to complain about the facilities.” He walked over to the kitchen counter, grateful as Bucky took two mugs from the cupboard.

Bucky had been quiet the last few days but was pleasant and chatty if spoken to. Steve was starting to get him a little and didn’t push; some people just preferred their own company. He was a people person himself and spending too much time on his own was a bad thing for him. Bucky was the opposite. He ate his dinner with Steve and Clint but would retire to his room afterwards, leaving Steve and Clint to watch TV. It was a shame because Steve liked him; he had a dry humor, different to Clint’s cheery brashness.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s your posture. If you want to torture yourself, go for it.”

“I’m not torturing myself,” Steve said sulkily.

Bucky snorted and took a gulp of coffee. “I have to go away for work for a few days from tomorrow. Take my bed.”

“I can’t do that,” Steve said, surprised at the offer.

“Why not?” Bucky asked. “I won’t be here, I’ll change the sheets. Give your back a break.” Steve was about to politely refuse again but Bucky just put down his mug and headed for the door. “Just take the damned bed, Steve.” He was smiling wryly as he said it. He didn’t smile much and Steve was pleased to discover that Bucky had a very nice smile.

He closed the door before Steve could answer. The matter seemed to have been settled.

***

The next day, Steve almost jumped for joy when he received an interview that afternoon for one of the many jobs he had applied for and tasted the bitter disappointment later that day when it turned out that “internal company rep” actually meant “questionable cold calling.” Needless to say he didn’t take the job when offered it. He was desperate just...not that desperate.

He could have just gone back to Clint’s place and baked more cookies but he was overcome by a sudden wave of determination. Time to do things the old fashioned way. He hit every clothing store, coffee place, supermarket and bookstore he passed on the way back to the subway and amassed a pretty impressive amount of application forms. He got out of his suit and into his exercise gear and went for a long and vigorous run, pounding out his frustrations through his feet.

When Bucky came home, Steve was working his way through the pile of application forms.

“Wow,” Bucky said, putting two pizza boxes down on the kitchen counter. “Been busy?”

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Can you go insane from listing your strong and weak points twenty times in a row?”

Bucky gave a low chuckle. “Clint’s out for the evening so I got us dinner. As a thank you.”

Steve checked his phone and saw a missed call from Clint. He stood up and stretched. “Thank you for what?”

“Cooking dinner, baking stuff, tidying. It’s appreciated.”

Steve gathered up his papers, happy to stop for the night. “You guys are letting me stay here for free; that’s appreciated more. But thank you for the pizza.” He got the plates while Bucky took two beers from the fridge.

“I’ll need to eat and run but my room is ready for you.” Bucky sat on the couch and opened one of the boxes.

Steve took a gulp of beer. “Are you sure?”

Bucky swallowed his mouthful. “Steve, please just sleep in my fucking bed.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay. It’s really kind of you.”

They ate in companionable silence and then Bucky wiped his mouth and checked his phone.

“I need to head out. Feel free to finish the rest of the pizza. Just be warned: If you put it in the fridge, Clint’ll probably eat it all when he comes in tipsy later.”

Steve gathered the empty boxes and bottles. “I’ll hide them in the crisper. I found what I assume used to be a cabbage in there the other day so I think it’s a safe bet.”

Bucky smiled and went to his room. Steve stood in the kitchen and wrung his hands a little. Bucky came back through the living room with a duffel bag.

“Enjoy the bed. See you Sunday night.”

“I will,” Steve replied. “See you.”

***

Steve had all but decided not to take Bucky up on his offer and just sleep on the couch regardless but he looked at it reproachfully and swallowed his stupid pride. Bucky’s bedroom door was open; his room was a decent size and very neat. The bed was a king and the sheets looked crisp and smooth. Steve’s back seemed to cry out in relief and he hadn’t even tried it yet. It felt a bit weird though, just coming into Bucky’s room. There was a bookcase loaded with paperbacks, a dresser and a comfy looking arm chair, a small table on either side of the bed. Steve went back to the living room and gathered his stuff. He brushed his teeth and got ready for bed in the bathroom and turned off the lights in the hall and living room, leaving the kitchen light on for Clint when he got home.

Steve turned on Bucky’s bedside lamp and the light in his room turned soft and warm. He started to feel a little better about the whole thing and climbed into the bed.

Holy shit, he thought as he sank against the pillows. This is the best feeling ever. He could stretch his legs, starfish himself and feel the cool sheets against his feet. He smiled up at the ceiling and then rolled out of the bed to look at Bucky’s bookcase. All hesitation about using Bucky’s room abandoned – apart from rooting around in his closet and drawers – he was going to enjoy this while he could and while it had been offered to him.

He found a Stephen King book he hadn’t read and got back into bed. His gaze fell on the bedside table and the framed photo on it; it was the only vaguely personal thing in the room besides the books. It was of Bucky with a shaved head, laughing, his arm around what could only be a sibling – they looked almost identical even though the other person was obviously years younger. They had a shaved head too and Steve struggled at first to tell if they were a boy or a girl. The slightly pink lips and hint of mascara on the eyes lead him towards a sister maybe. Her skin was pale and her cheeks a little sunken but she looked happy, her face pressed to Bucky’s as they laughed together.

Steve swallowed. He knew that look too well; pale and sunken. It had been the look his mother had worn towards the end of her life. He knew what Bucky’s shaved head in the photo meant.

People deal with grief in different ways. Steve had tried to turn his into strength but along the way it had become a wall instead, not letting anyone in and not letting himself out. He didn’t want to burden anyone with it so he bricked it up.

Maybe Bucky had done the same.

***

Steve had the best night’s sleep he’d had in...well, he couldn’t even remember. Between his mom dying and losing his apartment and his job and being basically homeless, sleep only came because his body needed it and even then, his brain was usually still set on frantic. But this had been the first night that he had been comfy and almost happy. He couldn’t get the picture on Bucky’s bedside table out of his mind, even in the dark but he had fallen into a wonderful sleep. Not dreamless, but at least the dreams hadn’t been stress dreams. He woke up on Saturday morning late, the sun filtering in through Bucky’s drapes. He thought about the pile of application forms he was halfway through and decided to go for a run instead. He swung out of bed, his back for once not screeching in pain, and got into his running gear. He glanced at the photo on the bedside table again.

The morning was crisp and sunny and Steve enjoyed every minute of his run. He stopped at a cafe on the way back to Clint’s to pick up two coffees and a bag of pastries.

When he let himself back into the apartment, there was a groan from the couch. Steve put the coffees and pastries down on the kitchen counter.

“Clint?”

“Why do I do it?” Clint groaned, still out of sight. “Why do I get drunk?”

Steve chuckled and picked up the coffees. Clint was sprawled on the couch with an arm over his eyes. “Because you’re an idiot? I don’t know what to tell you.”

Steve nudged Clint’s leg and Clint peered up blearily at him. “Coffee? I love you, Steve. Will you marry me?”

Steve laughed and sat in the armchair. He’d grab a shower in a minute. “I didn’t see you out here when I left.”

Clint swung himself into a sitting position and groaned again. “I came out to get coffee and didn’t quite make it.” He slurped from the paper cup. “Oh, sweet nectar of life,” he whispered.

“There are cinnamon buns on the counter,” Steve said.

Clint groaned again.

“And pizza in the fridge.”

“We have pizza?” Clint said, a little more cheerily.

Steve rose and dug the leftover slices out of the crisper. “You want them heated?”

“Cold is good,” Clint said. “Thank you, handsome bringer of food.”

Steve shook in amusement his head and sat down. “So you had a good time last night?”

“Oh man, I met the most incredible woman. Funny, witty, red hair. I’m in love, I tell you. I don’t think she was as impressed with me though.” Clint shoved pizza into his mouth.

“Did you get her number?” Steve asked.

Clint nodded, his cheeks bulging.

“So she must have been kind of impressed with you?”

Clint swallowed. “I think she felt sorry for me. I’m working up the courage to ask her out. Bucky gave you his room for the weekend?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said. “It was kind of him.”

“Buck’s a good guy,” Clint said, gnawing on a crust.

It was on the tip of Steve’s tongue to ask Clint about Bucky’s sister but he bit it back. It wasn’t his business to ask anyone but Bucky and even then, he wasn’t going to just come out and ask such a thing.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said and left Clint to his coffee and pizza.

***

Steve spent the rest of the day lounging on Bucky’s bed and reading; he figured he at least deserved one day off to relax, even though every thirty minutes the guilts would kick in and he almost went back in the living room to work on the pile.

_ Tomorrow,  _ he told himself.  _ You can have one day to yourself. _

Clint made tacos for dinner and they watched a nature documentary about sharks which, to be honest, wasn’t the weirdest thing they’d ever watched whilst eating. Steve almost came close to asking Clint about Bucky again but didn’t and when he went to bed later that evening, couldn’t help but look at the photo once more.

***

On Sunday, Steve powered through the application forms, printing out a ton of resumes on Clint’s ancient printer to attach to each and then went for a run. He was still a little achy from yesterday’s run and was cautious of shin splints but the combination of fresh air and exercise was helping to keep his head clear and he wanted more of it. He was going to be spending Monday dropping off all of those damn applications anyway which would be exercise in itself.

Clint was out for the evening again – with or without the aforementioned red head, Steve didn’t know – so he made himself an early dinner, had a shower and wondered when Bucky would be back; he had said Sunday hadn’t he? Steve wondered if he should move his stuff back to the couch. He also wondered why he hadn’t gotten Bucky’s number. But then what would he text him:  _ hi when u home can I sleep in ur bed still? _

By the time nine-thirty rolled around, Bucky still wasn’t back so Steve decided to go and read in Bucky’s room for a while and savor the bed while he could and if Bucky came back, he would sleep on the couch. Simple.

Steve’s head was lolling and the book he’d been trying to read had slipped from his hands fifteen minutes ago when the front door slammed. He rubbed his eyes and looked up as Bucky came into the room. He looked tired and pissed off.

“Hey,” Steve said. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

Bucky dropped his bag and ran a hand through his hair. “It was supposed to be this morning but everything went to shit. I’m so fucking tired.”

Steve fumbled the book in his lap. “I’ll go back to the couch, let you sleep.”

Bucky, through his tiredness, looked a little guilty. “No, I’ll have the couch. You sleep here.”

“But it’s your bed. I don’t mind; I’m really grateful that you -”

“Steve, you can have the bed. Your back -”

“No, no, I couldn’t -”

“I don’t mind taking the couch -”

“ _ I _ don’t mind taking the couch. It’s  _ your _ bed -”

Bucky made a noise halfway between a sigh and a growl. “You know what, I have to be at work for ass o’clock in the morning and I’m too damn tired to argue about this. We’re both adults.” He kicked the door closed with his foot and unbuckled his jeans, pulling them down.

Steve could feel his neck and ears burning. He hadn’t quite made it out of Bucky’s bed and was frozen in surprise. “Um, what...”

Bucky left his t-shirt shirt on, climbed into the bed next to Steve and rolled away from him. “You can read as long as you like. Lamp won’t bother me.”

Steve quickly picked the book back up and tried to find the page he had been on. He could just get up and leave Bucky to his bed and sleep on the couch. All he had to do was get up. But...two nights in an amazingly comfy bed had ruined him for sleeping on that couch again and when he heard Bucky’s deep even breathing – Jeez, he really  _ was _ tired – he thought that if Bucky didn’t give a shit that Steve was still here, then why should he? Like Bucky had said, they were both adults. The bed was big; odds are they wouldn’t end up spooning and even if they did, so what? They’d laugh it off and get on with their lives.

Steve quietly put the book on the bedside table, turned off the lamp and scooted under the covers. Bucky’s breathing was soothing and Steve realized how nice it was to actually be asleep with someone else. Not even to touch, just another person and the hint of warmth under the covers. This didn’t have to be weird.

He guessed they would find out if it was in the morning.

***

When Steve woke up, Bucky was gone.

He squinted at his phone; it was almost eight. Bucky had obviously been in for ass o’clock and Steve had slept like a log. He had been hoping to see Bucky this morning but now had to go all day wondering if them sharing Bucky’s bed had indeed been awkward. As far as he could tell it hadn’t been. It would bother him all day though.

Clint had been home at some point and had left for work so Steve was on his own. He ate breakfast and headed out to make the rounds with his job applications. The third coffee shop he had to go to was busy and he waited in line to hand over his application. When he presented it, the guy at the counter held up a finger when Steve made to walk away.

“Luis, cover for me a sec?”

A short cheery guy bounced over. “Sure thing, Scottie.”

The guy motioned Steve to the end of the counter. His name tag was crooked and read SCOTT.

“Okie dokie,” Scott said and started to read Steve’s application then and there. Steve hadn’t expected that; every other place he’d given an application to had just taken it with the vague notion that he might hear from them in the next few weeks.

Scott nodded in approval as he read. “Alright, Steve. Can you come in for an interview tomorrow?”

Steve blinked. “Tomorrow?”

“If you’re available.”

“I am but...”

Scott registered Steve’s bewilderment. “Look, we’re desperate to hire and your application and resume read like you haven’t made it all up. I don’t like to beat around the bush.”

“I...sure. That would be great. I haven’t worked in a coffee place before though...”

Scott made a face and waved a hand. “We’ll chat about that tomorrow. Is eleven good?”

“Yes, perfect,” Steve said, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. “Thank you.”

Scott grinned and headed back behind the counter. “See you then.”

Steve walked out onto the street and looked at the few applications he had left. Screw it; he was going home. If he was offered the job at this place tomorrow he would take it. If he didn’t get it, he could go back to handing out applications. At least he had a bite.

***

Steve was making dinner when Bucky got home later that day.

“Hi,” Steve said and smiled as Bucky came in the front door. He was determined to make this as smooth as possible.

“Hi,” Bucky said and smiled back. There seemed to be a degree of relief in it. “Is Clint home?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No. He met some girl at the weekend and is mooning over her. I think things are going well.”

Bucky chuckled. “Good for him.”

“I’m making a stir fry. Want in?”

“That would be great, thanks. Steve, about last night: I’m really sorry. I was just so tired and pissed off and...”

Steve took the pan off the stove and put it on the pot holder. “There’s nothing to apologize for. If it makes you feel any better, I slept like a log. To be honest, I’ve been worrying all day that it might have been awkward but if anything, I’m really grateful to you for letting me sleep in your room. So thank you.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “My pleasure. Want a beer? I have a secret stash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds great.”

They ate dinner together without the TV on and Steve got to know Bucky a little better; who’d have thought that the secret to getting someone to crack personally was to sleep in the same bed as them?

Bucky worked in IT, which he seemed to love and hate in equal measure. “I love programming, I just hate everything else. I have to travel a lot to train people and update systems and it wears on me. I’m so happy to come back home and just be alone.”

Steve took a swig of beer. “I can understand that although I get a little crazy if I’m on my own for too long. I need human contact every now and again.”

“I’m not a  _ total _ recluse,” Bucky said. “I’ve just always liked my own company. My sister used to joke that I was going to just up and move to remote island one day and be happy sending her a postcard every so often”

So the person in the picture was his sister. Steve smiled. “My mom used to say that I would beg her for brothers and sisters even though she was a single parent. I kind of realized that when I was ten or something.”

Bucky raised his beer bottle. “To introverts and extroverts.”

Steve sat back in his chair. “Since losing my job, I’ve definitely been feeling like more of an introvert.”

“What did you do?” Bucky asked.

“I’m...I was a teaching assistant. Did mostly subbing in high schools but cuts and the economy -” Steve waved a hand vaguely.

Bucky understood and nodded. “That sucks. I lucked out with my job. I need to remember that when I have a lousy day.”

Steve sighed. “If you have a lousy day you’re allowed to feel shitty. I spend so much time trying  _ not _ to feel shitty that I end up feeling even shittier.”

Bucky laughed softly and it was different. More genuine. “Yeah, I know how that feels. Any prospects on the job front?”

“Yeah, I’ve got an interview in a coffee place tomorrow morning. I’m going to take it if they offer; I don’t think I can take much more of me the way I am.”

Bucky started to gather the used plates. “You’re not so bad. I’ll do the dishes; you finish your beer.”

Steve nodded in thanks. This had been...really nice. He scooched down in the chair a little and enjoyed the slight buzz of the beer. He wouldn’t drink any more; the last thing he needed was a hangover.

Bucky was running the water into the sink, his back to Steve. “If you need to crash in a comfy bed again before your interview, you’re welcome to. Now that we both know we don’t bite or sleep-punch.”

Steve was almost about to automatically decline but his eyes darted to the couch and narrowed. He thought about his bad back and his cramped legs. A good night’s sleep  _ would _ set him up for a more positive outlook for his interview. He glanced at Bucky; his back was still to Steve and he was scrubbing a bowl.

“That would be great. Thanks,” Steve said and he thought he saw the slightest movement in Bucky’s shoulders, like he had been tensed.

_ Just for tonight _ , Steve thought.  _ Because Bucky offered. _

_ *** _

When Steve gathered his things and tentatively peered through Bucky’s open door later that evening, Bucky was sitting up in bed with a book resting on his knees.

“Come on in,” Bucky said without looking up. “Do you mind if I read for a little while?”

Steve closed the door behind him. “Not at all. I read a couple of your books at the weekend; mind if I...” He pointed to the bookshelf.

“Go for it.”

Steve chose a book of poetry and slipped under the covers. There was a good two feet between them and he could feel Bucky’s warmth.

“Good choice,” Bucky muttered.

They read in silence for a while and while Steve had thought that it  _ had _ to get awkward now, it didn’t. Bucky barely even seemed to notice that he was there. He started to relax and before he knew it, his eyes were drooping and the book was sagging in his hands.

He was just on the edge of dozing when Bucky gave a soft chuckle. “I’ll turn the lamp off.”

Steve snorted a little and sat back up. “No, it’s okay...”

But Bucky was putting his book on the small table to his side of the bed and took Steve’s book too. “Goodnight.”

Steve lay down as Bucky turned off the lamp and rolled onto his side. “Goodnight.”

***

Steve was already on his second cup of coffee when Bucky came into the kitchen the next morning.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as poured coffee into his travel mug.

“Good until around 4am and then I just kept thinking about my interview and thought I’d get up and have a run to clear my head.”

Bucky chuffed. “You couldn’t  _ pay _ me to be out of bed at 4am.”

Steve got up to make himself some toast. “So Clint didn’t come home last night.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Steve smirked. “Guess things are going well with his mystery redhead.”

“At least one of us is getting some action,” Bucky muttered. “Uh, no offense.”

“None taken. My action’s been on the back burner for a while.”

Bucky made what sounded like a noise of agreement and then picked up his mug. “I’d better get going. Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. “I need it.”

***

Steve got the job.

He blinked in surprise. “I...really?” He was in Scott’s office at the back of the shop, feeling a little silly in the one suit he owned.

“Steve, your CV is good and you’re stupidly polite. This is all I need to go on and I’m not usually wrong in my hunches. Well, once. Okay twice but it was a weird day. Look, I would like to offer you the job. We can give you plenty of training, make sure your shifts are fair and that’s that.”

Steve couldn’t believe this. Was he finally getting a break? “That would be fantastic. I...yes. Yes please.”

Scott laughed but there was no meanness in it. “Great! What day are we? Tuesday. Okay, what say we get you started on Thursday with the paperwork and a shift?”

“Thursday is great,” Steve said as a weight lifted from his shoulders. He could finally pay back Clint.

“Awesome. Hey, come on out and meet a few of the guys.”

They went out into the main shop; the rush that had been clogging the front when Steve arrived was gone. The cheerful guy from yesterday, Luis, was there and a woman with a sharp unamused face.

“This is Luis; you’ll probably be training under him for the most part.”

Steve shook hands with him. “Hi. I’m Steve.”

“Good to meet you. I got the knowledge of this place so you don’t have to worry,” Luis said.

“This is Jessica,” Scott said and the woman shook Steve’s hand briskly. Boy, she had a grip. “There’s also Kamala who’s in college and does the weekends and a couple of mornings and Miles who kind of fills in everywhere else. You’ll mainly be working with Luis.”

“You’ll pick it up in no time,” Luis said with a smile and clapped Steve on the shoulder.

“He could pick up the whole coffee machine with those arms,” Jessica said, her face deadly serious.

“Okay, we’ll order you in a uniform and see you at 9am on Thursday,” Scott said. “I’ll walk you out.”

Steve said goodbye to Luis and Jessica and thanked Scott again before leaving and heading to the subway.

Finally, he felt like he was regaining some control over his life.

***

“Congratulations!” Clint cried when Steve told him later that day. “I’m so happy for you!”

Steve smiled. “I’m just so relieved.”

Bucky opened a beer for all of them. “Great job.”

Steve sat down and relished the feeling of not having uncertainty hanging over him. There was still a lot to work on but at least for now, one thing was dealt with. “When I get my first pay check, I’m taking you guys out to dinner. You don’t know how much it’s meant to me to...” He choked up a little and cleared his throat. “You’ve helped me through a rough time.”

Bucky looked sad and Clint threw an arm around him. If anything good had come out of this situation, it was knowing that he had great friends. They all ate dinner together that night and Bucky didn’t go to his room like he usually did. He seemed a little more at ease and laughed more; it was nice to see.

“So tell us about your new lady friend,” Steve said to Clint with a sly grin.

Clint ducked his head. “Aw, come on...”

Bucky threw a balled-up napkin at him. “Spill.”

“Oh guys, she’s fucking  _ amazing _ ,” Clint blurted happily and Bucky and Steve both laughed.

She was called Natasha and worked as a personal trainer. Clint had met her in a coffee shop after having spilled most of a frappuccino down her legs. Somehow she thought it was cute instead of annoying and they had been going out to dinner as often as they could.

“We ended up going back to her place a couple of times and talking until stupid o’clock and I crashed on her futon. Things seem to be going well.” Clint’s cheeks were pink from his beers. “I don’t quite know how I’m not screwing this up; she’s like a gazillion times more sophisticated than me.”

“Well, she’s got good taste,” Steve said, opening his third beer.

Clint grinned. “Oh, I see...”

Steve floundered. “No, I didn’t mean it like...that’s not what-”

But Clint was already leaning towards Bucky. “Did Steve ever tell you about the huge crush he used to have on me?”

Steve groaned and Bucky smirked. “No.”

“When we first met, like what, six years ago? Stevie here asked me out.”

Steve covered his eyes. “And it was a disaster and we got through it and stayed friends. The end.”

“I get the feeling that’s not all there is to it,” Bucky said, enjoying himself immensely.

“We went out because I mean, look at him; how could I not, right?” Clint said and Steve groaned louder. “So we go to a bar, get a little tipsy and kiss and -”

“It was like kissing my brother even though I don’t have a brother and we both got creeped out and then I walked into a lamppost and Clint patched me up and we stayed friends, the end, the end, THE END!” Steve made some kind of hand gesture that symbolized finality and glared as Clint and Bucky laughed at him. He didn’t mind all that much; seeing Bucky enjoying himself more than made up for past embarrassments.

They had another beer each before Clint begged off to bed, wobbling down the hallway to his room, leaving Steve and Bucky alone.

Steve sighed and started to gather the empty beer bottles. “I’ll tidy up tomorrow morning.”

“Your last day as an unemployed bum,” Bucky said and helped him carry the bottles to the kitchen counter.

“Thank God,” Steve said. “I was starting to get cabin fever.”

Bucky stacked the used dishes. “I’m going to get into bed. Come on in whenever you’re ready.” He left.

Steve went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Okay, so this was definitely a thing now, sleeping in Bucky’s room. Not that he minded. He would have a shower in the morning, trying not to address how eager he was to get into bed.

Bucky was reading and didn’t glance up as Steve came in and softly closed the door. Steve quickly got into his bed t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, not wanting to know if Bucky was watching but when he turned around, Bucky was still just reading. Steve sat on the side of the bed and took off his watch, placing it on the bedside table. His gaze fell again onto the framed photograph of Bucky and his sister.

He must have stared for longer than he meant to because Bucky said quietly from behind him, “That’s Becca.”

Steve turned and Bucky’s face was hard. “Cancer?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s face softened, the obvious mask of not wanting to show his hand too much slipping. “Yeah. Two years ago. She was fifteen.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” Steve said.

Bucky swallowed, looking at the picture. “No-one should have to go through that.”

Steve climbed into bed. “I agree. My mom died of cancer too. Three years ago. Watching her go was the hardest thing.”

Bucky slowly put his book down. “The helplessness was the worst.”

Steve nodded. “After the chemo and everything else and hearing that nothing more could be done...it was like getting constantly kicked in the guts.”

They sat silently together. Steve didn’t talk about his mom often; he’d been so wrapped up in his grief for so long, it still hurt too much. But something had come unstuck, talking to Bucky like this. A small piece of brick from the wall he had built up around his mom’s long illness and death had crumbled.

“The hardest part for me was when Becca accepted it,” Bucky said, his voice tight. “She made the most of the months she had left and...it was so  _ hard _ not to be upset all the time, knowing that the end was getting closer but wanting to be happy for her and make her feel loved.” He made a noise like he was swallowing a sob.

Without really thinking about it, Steve took Bucky’s hand. “I understand,” he said. Because he did. Bucky’s hand tightened in his and they didn’t say anything else. After a little while, Bucky let go of Steve’s hand and turned off the lamp. They both got under the covers on their sides of the bed.

“Goodnight,” Bucky said into the darkness.

“Goodnight,” Steve replied.

***

Steve spent most of the next day cleaning and running and cooking. He was nervous about starting his new job but he was a little excited too; he loved to learn new things and was kind of looking forward to his training. It would be nice to have some kind of routine in place again instead of the floundering he had felt since moving in here.

Bucky got home before Clint that evening and gave Steve a sincere smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve said with a smile of his own. “Good day?”

Bucky shrugged as he put down his bag. “Not bad. I had to update a technician’s system and his laptop was loaded with porn. I mean come on, at work? Keep it in your pants until you get home. I used a ton of Purell after touching that thing.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “At least tell me it was decent porn?”

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter and raised an eyebrow. “I guess it depends on what kind of porn you’re into.”

Steve held up his hands and chuckled. “Okay, I think this is a conversation for another time.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re into some freaky shit.” Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

“No, I’m not! I just...come on, man.”

Bucky laughed and Clint walked in through the front door.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Porn,” Bucky and Steve said together.

Clint looked confused. “Clown porn?” he said and Steve and Bucky dissolved into hysterics.

***

“What was she like?” Steve asked. He and Bucky were in bed. The lights were out and they were both still awake, lying side by side. “Your sister.”

“She was so funny,” Bucky said and Steve could hear that he was smiling. “No-one could make me laugh like she could. It was like she was never in a bad mood, even when she hit puberty. I was a morose little fucker during my puberty days so it used to annoy the crap out of me that nothing ever bothered her.”

“My mom was like that,” Steve said. “There was always a bright side to everything, even if all I wanted was to mope.”

Bucky laughed softly. “I know, right? There were twelve years between us but we were really close. She wasn’t too good with academics at school and it used to drive my parents nuts that she only ever seemed to average a c+ but put her on a sports field and she could master any game in no time. Baseball, soccer, hockey – you name it. She was on a billion teams.”

“Did you go to her games?”

“Every single one,” Bucky said proudly. “Mom and Dad couldn’t always make it because of work but you bet your ass that I’d be there cheering the team on. I kind of became an unofficial mascot.”

Steve laughed softly. “That’s awesome.”

“Even when she got so ill that she couldn’t play any more, she made me take her to every game,” Bucky said, sadness lacing his voice. “She didn’t want to miss one.” He sighed. “They had a big memorial service at her school when she died and it was amazing; like a huge pep rally. People were crying but there was happiness there too. She was loved.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Steve said softly.

“Tell me about your mom,” Bucky said.

Steve stared up into the darkness. “She was a lot like your sister; always happy, always positive. She loved her church and did a ton of stuff there: Food drives, soup kitchens, you name it. I used to call her Saint Sarah.”

Bucky laughed. “Were you Saint Steve?”

“Nah,” Steve said with a smile. “I’d help out with some stuff but as soon as she got ill and we knew that...that she wasn’t going to get better, I couldn’t face church so much. She never made me feel bad about it though. She understood. She accepted the cancer pretty early on and just kept doing what she loved until she couldn’t any more. She never gave in to despair like I did. I tried not to show it because I wanted to be strong for her.”

“You’re a very strong person. She raised you well.”

Steve laughed a little but it was derisive. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“You could have fooled me,” Bucky said.

“Sometimes I just want to give up and get into bed and never get out but I know that’s not what she would want for me.”

Bucky shifted a little. “I wouldn’t want that for you either.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that.

“Besides,” Bucky continued “this is my room. I’d kick you out of bed.”

Steve laughed and this time it was a real laugh. “Jerk.”

“Good luck tomorrow,” Bucky said, sounding pleased.

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bucky.”

***

By the end of his first day of work, Steve’s head was spinning. There was so much to remember as well as helping customers and cleaning the tables and a million other things.

After Steve slopped his latest latte over the counter and earned a glare from Jessica as she walked out on her break, he slumped against the back counter as there was a rare moment of the shop being empty. He sighed and scrubbed his face.

Luis wiped down the counter with a flourish. “You’re doing great, Steve.”

“You think so? Jessica doesn’t seem too impressed.”

“Ah, she’s always like that. Believe me, you’re learning fast.”

“Thanks, Luis,” Steve said and started to wipe down the coffee machine.

“So what do you like doing outside of work?” Luis was one of those people who seemed constantly cheerful and Steve was grateful.

“Well, reading. Drawing, although I haven’t sketched for a while.”

Luis perked up even more, if that was possible. “Aw man, you like art? Me too! I saw this crazy Rothko exhibition at the Met? Not really my thing – I’m more of a classical kind of guy? - but it was  _ sublime _ , man. You see that stuff up close and it’s so  _ real _ . I’m not a fan of his brushwork but dude could use color.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, Rothko’s definitely more impressive in real life.”

“You paint?”

Steve hadn’t picked up a brush since his mom had died. He’d just about managed to get back into sketching again. “Not for a while. I’m nothing to speak about.”

“Modesty, I bet! I’d love to see your work, bro.”

The door opened and a flux of students walked in. “Sure, maybe” Steve said with a smile.

“Game faces. Hi, what can I get you folks?”

***

“Hey hey! The working man is home!” Clint sing-songed when Steve got back to the apartment that afternoon. “How was it?”

Steve took off his jacket. “Tiring but not bad. The people are nice. Well, except for one but I’m sure she’s not really that bad. You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I’m taking Nat out to see a play.”

Steve made an impressed noise. “My my.”

Clint smiled around his mouthful of beef jerky. “I know, right? Hey, I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t been sleeping on the couch.”

Steve went to the fridge and got the makings of a sandwich. “Yeah. I’ve uh, been sleeping in Bucky’s room.”

“On the floor?”

Steve buttered a slice of bread. “In his bed.”

Clint’s eyebrows almost flew off of his face and Steve said quickly, “Not like that. I used his room when he was out of town and it just...carried on when he got back.”

“Okay,” Clint said, amused. “As long as it works for you both, I guess.”

“It’s kind of nice, actually,” Steve said. “I mean, in the way that it doesn’t matter. We just happen to be sharing a bed.”

“Buck’s a great guy. He’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah, we got to talking,” Steve said softly.

Clint put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m glad. You’ve been through a lot too. I know you don’t like to talk about your mom and everything but I’m glad you can with Bucky. I’m here too, you know. If you ever wanted to talk.”

“I know,” Steve said, looking down at his sandwich. “I’m sorry I never talk to you much, about that stuff. I just...”

“It’s okay. I understand; shared life experience and all that. I’m happy that you have someone to share it with.”

Steve grabbed Clint in a tight hug. Clint made a noise of surprise but then hugged Steve back.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Steve said wetly into Clint’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Clint said, more emotion in his voice than Steve thought he had ever heard. After a moment, Clint said, back to his usual tone, “You’re a lousy kisser so I’m  _ really _ glad we’re just friends.”

Steve snorted and pushed Clint away with a smile. “Asshole.”

“You wish.”

Steve burst out laughing. “What does that even mean?”

Clint laughed too. “I have no idea.”

***

“I went to grief counselling. Like a group thing? I hated it. It sounds horrible but I  _ hated _ it” Bucky said quietly into the darkness of his room later that night. “It was like all of a sudden I had to share my grief with strangers and it made me so angry. My grief was  _ mine.  _ I didn’t want to share it. I know a lot of people feel better after doing that but I felt worse. It was like putting Becca on display for everyone for my benefit. I know now that it wasn’t like that, but at the time I just wanted to be left alone.”

“Your parents suggested it?” Steve asked. He was on his side, resting his head on his arm. He could just make out the vague outline of Bucky in the gloom.

“They went for everything they could think of to try and feel better and whatever, good for them but I just couldn’t deal with them pushing it all at me. I just wanted to deal with it in my own way and whether it was good or bad for me, it was mine. You know?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “When Mom died, all of her friends from the church were constantly coming to me with casseroles and pies and their version of comfort. I know they meant well and they were lovely people but it got to the point where I couldn’t deal with one more fucking Angel Food Cake and platitude that just made me angry.” He felt a wave of guilt; it hadn’t been his finest hour, snapping and shouting at a fifty year-old parishioner to leave him the hell alone. “I was angry so much when she died: Angry at the cancer, the doctors, God. Even her, for accepting it and leaving me alone.”

“My parents never got angry and that made  _ me _ angry. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me,” Bucky said. There was relief in his voice at hearing Steve go through something similar. “Our relationship hasn’t been the same, since Becca died. We still talk and go to dinner but...something between us died with her.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky gave a humorless laugh. “You must be sick of hearing all of this.”

Steve shook his head. “No. It’s...I never talk about this stuff. It feels good. I feel lighter.”

“Me too,” Bucky said and rolled onto his side, facing Steve. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve asked.

“For listening. For understanding.”

“Then I should thank you too,” Steve said and found Bucky’s hand. Their fingers entwined.

“Goodnight, Buck.”

This time, Bucky didn’t roll away from him.

***

Things fell into a steady routine for Steve after that; he worked his shifts at the coffee shop, getting the hang of everything quickly, much to Scott’s, Luis’s and even (begrudgingly) Jessica’s delight. It was tough when it was busy but Steve liked the focus it gave him, the way he had to think one step ahead to keep orders filled. He worked mostly with Scott, Luis and Jessica but also worked a couple of shifts with Kamala and Miles, who were younger but just as pleasant. He was able to give Clint a little money towards the rent. He felt happier in himself.

His friendship with Bucky had bloomed into something good; they ate dinner together, watched bad TV together. In bed, they talked about everything: Their childhoods, their hopes. It was like as soon as the lights were out, they could open up about anything. They could still talk any other time but the strange intimacy of sharing a bed seemed to allow them to talk more freely and honestly.

Bucky was great; he was funny and witty and didn’t mince his words. He listened and Steve felt like he could tell him anything. Hopefully Bucky thought the same thing of him.

Clint and Natasha were now officially a couple and Clint was rarely in the apartment. He hadn’t uttered a word about Steve and Bucky’s bed sharing, for which Steve was thankful. It was an odd situation, of course there was no denying that, but Steve liked it and he wanted to keep it.

***

Bucky took his shirt off and folded it over the armchair. “It was so crap; there’s Hammer talking to me about the programme like I’m an intern or something. I  _ designed  _ the fucking programme. Jumped up little shit...”

Steve couldn’t help but grin; he liked Bucky’s little rambles before bed. It kind of felt like...well, a  _ couples _ thing; letting off steam after a shitty day at work. Just being able to talk to each other about things that bothered them. This was becoming more of a ritual now; they would get into bed and read for a while but more often than not, their books would remain on the same pages while they talked about work. Then the lamps would get switched off and they would talk softly about other, more personal subjects.

“What?” Bucky asked and Steve realized he was watching him. “Why are you smiling?”

Steve shook his head. “Nothing. Well, it’s just when I first met you, I thought you hated me. Now I’m practically living in your room.”

Bucky frowned, as if trying to remember. “Oh God, was I a jerk?”

“No, no – just quiet. I jump to conclusions pretty easily. I mean, I did just appear on the couch one day.”

Bucky turned away to fold his jeans. “Well it wasn’t a bad surprise.”

Steve wasn’t sure what Bucky meant by that but he didn’t ask. Bucky heaved himself into bed and lay down, eyes closed. “Oh yeah,” he groaned. “Being horizontal is the best.”

Steve laughed softly and picked up his book. He read a few paragraphs and then glanced down at Bucky. He looked peaceful, eyes closed, his mouth almost quirked in a smile as his chest rose and fell. Something in Steve’s chest twisted and he quickly looked away.

“I’ll turn the light out,” he said quietly and put his book down.

Bucky just hummed sleepily.

When the lights were out and Steve lay down, Bucky rolled toward him, not touching, but enough that Steve could feel his breath against his cheek.

It took him a long time to get to sleep.

***

He was distracted at work the next day. So much so that he didn’t realize until his lunch break that he had post-it notes all over his back. TRY OUR NEW SOY MILK FRAPP, 50% OFF IF YOU BUY 12 OR MORE, COFFEE HUNK, I HEART BARISTAS, OUR COOKIES ARE THE BEST.

Steve groaned and reached around to pluck the notes from his shirt as Scott and Luis laughed hysterically. Even Jessica smirked before she went outside to call her boyfriend.

“Sorry Steve, but you were so out of it we couldn’t help it,” Scott said, patting his shoulder.

Luis wiped his eyes. “We couldn’t stop. It was too easy, bro.”

Steve smiled and put the COFFEE HUNK post-it under his name tag. “That’s what I get for not paying attention.”

Scott told Steve and Luis to go and grab a bite together while it was quiet and they got hot dogs from the cart across the street and sat outside the library.

“Where was your brain today, because it sure wasn’t on coffee,” Luis said.

Steve leaned back on the bench and sighed. “Just...someone.”

“Someone crazy stupid fine?” Luis asked with a knowing little grin.

Steve laughed. “No. Well, it’s complicated. You know how...you suddenly  _ see _ someone and everything feels different?”

Luis nodded sagely. “Totally.”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“So...crazy stupid fine, then.”

Steve laughed softly and looked up at the clear blue sky, thinking of Bucky. “Yeah. Crazy stupid fine.”

***

Things had changed for better in the apartment. Bucky was more social and Clint noticed, when he was at the apartment and not at Natasha’s. He bought dinner home more often and they all enjoyed time together in the evenings. Steve loved it; it was starting to feel like, well, like  _ home _ .

One evening they had just finished some Thai take-out. Steve and Clint cleared the coffee table and Bucky stood and stretched.

“Gonna take a shower. Leave the dishes. I’ll do them.”

Clint started to run the water. “Nah, you go shower. Me and Steve’ll tidy.”

Bucky nodded a thanks and headed off down the hall.

“He seems happy,” Clint said as he washed the plates, handing them to Steve to dry.

Steve smiled, thinking of how different Bucky was now from when they first met. “Yeah.”

Clint inspected the glass he was washing. “You seem happier too.” He eyed Steve sideways.

“Yeah,” he said again.

“I get the feeling it’s not just the whole job situation.”

Steve knew what Clint was getting at. “It’s a few things.” He could hear the water running in the bathroom.

Clint grinned. “Well, whatever the hell you two are doing at night, it’s doing both you a hell of a lot of good.”

“We’re just talking,” Steve said quickly. “We’re not-”

“Oh heaven forbid. Steve, I don’t care. Even if you and Bucky were f –  _ involved _ ,” he said, catching Steve’s warning look, “I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. In fact, I think you two are good together.” His face softened. “I know you care about him.”

Steve looked down at the dirty linoleum floor. “He’s a great guy.” He sighed. “I kind of feel like I can’t say anything though because we’ve done everything...” He searched for the right word.

“Backwards?” Clint said with a grin.

Steve chuffed. “Yep.”

Clint washed the last plate and dried off his hands. “You’ll figure it out. I gotta go. Staying at Nat’s tonight. Tell Buck I said bye?”

Steve dried the plates. “Will do.”

Steve was sitting on the couch watching Project Runway when Bucky came out of the shower. He looked fresh and soft, dressed in a faded Dodgers t-shirt and sweats, his hair still damp. “Is Clint gone?” he asked, slumping at the other end of the couch.

“Yeah. He said bye. Would you ever wear that?” Steve said and pointed at the TV. “What a mess.”

Bucky chuckled and they fell silent. After a minute, Bucky cleared his throat and when he spoke, Steve got the impression that maybe, just maybe, he’d been rehearsing what he wanted to say in the shower.

“I um, was thinking of catching a movie and getting some food tomorrow night if you wanted to come.”

Steve’s heart quickened a little but he feigned pleased nonchalance. “That sounds good. I haven’t been to the movies for ages. Is Clint going?”

“No, he has a family thing I think,” Bucky said.

Steve turned to him and although Bucky was watching the TV, Steve recognized the tenseness in his neck that he got when he was nervous.

“There’s a great Italian place near the coffee shop,” he said. “I went with Scott and Luis and the meatballs are amazing.”

Bucky looked up and finally allowed himself a soft smile. “I like Italian.”

Steve smiled and nodded and they both relaxed, laughing together over the TV.

***

Steve made the grave error of telling Scott and Luis about meeting Bucky that evening. It was just the three of them today and for a Friday, it had been pretty quiet.

“So, you up to anything fun tonight, Steve?” Scott asked as he counted the register.

Steve was wiping down the countertops. “Just meeting one of my roommates for a movie and dinner.”

Luis brightened. “Ooh, is this Crazy Stupid Fine?”

Scott’s ear pricked up. “Steve has a crazy stupid fine?”

“No, it’s...well, yeah but no, Bucky’s just my friend but-”

Luis clapped his hands and bounced. “Stevie’s gonna get lucky!”

“No, I’m not! It’s just...we’re going-”

“On a date,” Scott said and gave Steve an exaggerated wink.

“I didn’t say-”

Luis turned to Scott. “Steve said he had this friend, or you know, a person, who he suddenly  _ saw _ , right? And I’m like, okay so Steve is all hot under the collar for this person who is crazy stupid fine. He said that.”

“ _ You _ said that!” Steve said. “I just agreed!”

“So it  _ is _ a date, with your roommate, who you think is crazy stupid fine,” Scott said.

Steve threw the cloth he’d been using under the counter. “You guys are really annoying, you know that?”

Luis and Scott laughed maniacally.

***

Bucky was waiting outside of the movie theatre when Steve finished work. It was a small arts cinema that played a variety of films. Bucky looked pleased to see Steve and also slightly nervous in a black button down and jeans that looked like they’d been ironed several times. It was a date after all.

“Hey!” Steve said. “I had to get changed out of my work clothes and then make sure that Scott and Luis weren’t following me. I think I lost them.”

“Why would they follow you?” Bucky asked.

“Because they’re idiots,” Steve said. “You look very nice.”

Bucky’s eyes widened a little and he fumbled with his wallet. Steve had never seen him like this. It was very sweet. “Oh. Thanks. You...you do too. Blue’s a good color for you.” He coughed and turned to the playlist. “So what do you want to see?”

Steve studied the titles. “Well, Downfall sounds a bit heavy. I’m not really in the mood to watch a film about Hitler. Have you seen The Grand Budapest Hotel?”

“No, but I’ve wanted to.”

The decision made, they paid for their tickets and went in. It started as soon as they sat down so they didn’t really get a chance to talk. They were both sitting a little stiffly but as the movie went on, they relaxed, laughing along at the same parts. It was a good movie and Steve was enjoying Bucky’s laugh.

“Wow, that was so much better than I thought it would be,” Bucky said afterwards. It was getting dark.

“Yeah, it was funny. And really sad.” Steve nodded down the street. “Hungry?”

“Starving. I’ve been thinking about meatballs all day,” Bucky said and Steve chuckled.

They walked along together, their shoulders brushing occasionally. The restaurant wasn’t busy and they got a table by the window to people watch. For the most part throughout the meal, they were quiet but it was a comfortable silence; both of them happy to be in each other’s company.

“I spoke to my folk’s today,” Bucky said, after the waiter had brought their espressos over.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked.

Bucky fiddled with his biscotti. “I don’t think they’re coping very well. Not that  _ I’m _ coping very well.” He sighed. “We’re going away for a weekend in a couple of month’s time to talk. About Becca and everything else.”

“That’s wonderful,” Steve said softly. “And long overdue by the sounds of it.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair. “I know. I’m dreading it though. It’s going to be emotional.”

“It might repair the rift between you all. You can tell them how you’ve felt.”

“I don’t want to upset them,” Bucky said, his eyes downcast.

Steve made a decision and reached across the table and took Bucky’s hand. Bucky looked up in surprise, his eyes shining with tears. “You can’t hold it in. We both learned that the hard way. It eats away at you and that’s no good for anyone. I’m...I’m so glad we’ve been able to talk to each other. I feel like...like something is mending.”

Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand. “Me too.”

***

They walked home in silence and when the front door of the apartment was closed, they stood and looked at each other.

“I’m going to bed now,” Bucky said, biting his lip.

Steve nodded. “Me too.”

They made their way to Bucky’s room and got into their bed clothes. Bucky got under the covers and Steve turned off the lamp and they both lay down facing each other in the dark. The only sound for a long time was their breathing.

“I’m not very good at this,” Bucky said softly into the darkness.

“Me neither,” Steve said. “Can I hold you?”

Bucky let out a breath and said, “Please.”

Steve shuffled closer and drew Bucky to him, wrapping an arm around him. Bucky snuggled into Steve’s chest, his breath hot on Steve’s neck.

“I’ve felt alone for so long,” Bucky said and his voice broke on the last word.

Steve kissed the top of his head and held him tighter. “You don’t have to be alone any more,” he whispered.

As they drifted off to sleep, Steve realized he had been talking to himself as much as he had been to Bucky.

***

Steve blinked awake to sunlight streaming into Bucky’s bedroom. He turned and Bucky was on his side, watching him. He was smiling softly.

“You snore.”

Steve snorted. “Good morning to you too. And no I don’t.”

“Oh, you most certainly do. It’s kind of cute though.”

Steve smiled. “Your hair’s a mess. You like like Robert Smith.”

Bucky barked out a laugh and smacked Steve on the shoulder. Steve giggled and rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand and facing Bucky.

“I had a great time last night.”

Bucky picked at his pillow. “Me too. Sorry I made things a little...maudlin.”

“You didn’t. Although I was kind of disappointed by one thing.”

Bucky frowned. “The movie?”

Steve moved closer. “No. I thought dates always ended with a kiss.”

Bucky swallowed. “Well, technically, this could still be the date. In which case, it hasn’t ended yet.” His eyes flitted to Steve’s lips.

Steve reached out and pulled Bucky to him, their lips meeting gently. They kissed softly, not rushing.

“I can’t believe we’ve been sleeping together for months and this is the first time that we’ve kissed,” Steve murmured, eyes closed and relishing the warmth of Bucky against him.

Bucky laughed quietly. “So I like to get to know someone’s sleeping habits before I go on a date. What kind of boy do you think I am?”

Steve opened his eyes. “I think you’re an amazing boy. Kind, funny, handsome. And I like you very much.”

Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve again, harder this time, more passionately. “Steve, you’re...you’re just...wonderful.”

They spent most of the morning in bed, kissing and talking until their stomachs growled simultaneously. They each had a shower and went out to get breakfast. The morning was crisp and clear and when they were walking down the street, Bucky reached out and held Steve’s hand. Steve smiled at him.

“It’s funny how things work out sometimes,” he said.

“How do you mean?” asked Bucky.

“Well, I lost my job, my apartment and a lot of my confidence but thanks to Clint and his generosity, I had a place to stay. I found a job that I don’t hate. It isn’t what I want to do in the long run but I like it. And...I met you. Clint had always mentioned his room mate but had I known...”

Bucky laughed softly. “So you’re saying it was meant to be?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m not sure I believe in that stuff but, maybe.”

“We probably would have met eventually.”

“But we wouldn’t have done everything that led us to sharing a bed and opening up about our families.”

Bucky chewed on that. “I guess.” He stopped and tugged Steve to him in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’m happy. The happiest I’ve been for a very long time.”

Steve brushed Bucky’s hair from his face and kissed him. “Me too. Thank you, Bucky Barnes.”

***

Clint was happy but not exactly surprised when he came home to find the two of them wrapped together on the couch watching The Dark Crystal. They cooked dinner and ate and then it was bedtime again and Steve and Bucky immediately got under the covers and held each other. They didn’t talk, just kissed for a while and went to sleep. And the days went on like that. They worked and joked and slept and talked. They cried too, both of their respective grief still close to the surface but it was better. Better to talk and share.

Steve was happy. He could pay Clint rent now. It seemed to be this unspoken agreement that Steve had officially moved in and the three of them got on well together.

“It’s no different to you just staying here, so all we have to do is add it to some paperwork,” Clint had said and suddenly Steve was his tenant.

He and Bucky made love for the first time one night when Clint was away at Natasha’s. The evening leading to it hadn’t been anything special, just dinner and TV but then Steve had looked at Bucky and Bucky had looked back and something had clicked. Bucky had led Steve to the bedroom and they had sex, tasting each other and moving together, glad that they didn’t need to be quiet and not letting each other hold back. Steve had gone to grab a washcloth from the bathroom afterwards and when he came back and saw Bucky on the bed, naked and sleepy and grinning, his gorgeous body slick with sweat and stretched out, he threw the cloth aside and climbed back onto the bed and crawled over Bucky, pressing their bodies together again.

“I love you,” he said, staring into Bucky’s grey-blue eyes.

Bucky’s breath hitched and he kissed Steve hard. “I love you too.”

***

“I need to talk to you guys,” Clint said one evening.

They had just finished some epic Lebanese take-out and he passed Steve and Bucky a beer each. They both looked at each other, a little worried.

“It’s nothing bad,” Clint said. “Just...Nat has asked me to move in with her. And I said yes.”

“Clint, that’s amazing!” Steve said. Natasha was great and very good for Clint. He pretty much worshipped her too.

“Way to become a real-life adult,” Bucky said and they all clinked their beer bottles together.

Clint laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m madly in love with her, so thanks.”

“Crazy stupid fine,” Steve said with a grin.

“So, with me moving out, I’m hoping the two of you will stay here. I won’t raise the rent to cover my room. You guys are my best friends and I want you to be happy here.”

“Clint, we can’t let you do that...” Steve said. Clint had already done so much for him.

“Dude, I inherited this apartment from my brother. I don’t need the money.”

“I didn’t know that,” Bucky said quietly. “That you had a brother.”

Clint looked down at his beer. “He was older than me and we never had a great relationship. Our shared life experience of a shitty childhood didn’t bring us together. I was actually really surprised when he left me everything after his death; I think it was his way of saying sorry about everything.”

Steve put his arm around Clint’s shoulder. “He’d be proud of you.”

Clint swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “So it’s agreed. You’ll both stay?”

“We’ll stay,” Bucky said.

***

“She would have loved you,” Steve said one cold grey morning.

He and Bucky were at the cemetery. It was his mom’s birthday. He never came here on the day she died, just the happier days that meant something to him.

Bucky had his hand around Steve’s waist and kissed him on the cheek. “If she was anything like you, I would have loved her too.”

Steve wiped a tear away. “I wish I could have met Becca.”

Bucky chuckled sadly. “She would have wrapped you around her little finger.”

Steve smiled and they both started to walk slowly away from Sarah Rogers’ grave, hand in hand. Bucky and his parents were working things out. It had been slow, all of them almost starting again as a family without his sister but family therapy had helped and a lot of the anger and resentment that Bucky had felt towards them was ebbing. Steve had been to see a therapist a few times and it hadn’t been as bad as he thought it would be. Their grief was turning into something different; the same form but the shape was changing, becoming something less painful.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky asked when they had walked a few blocks.

Steve looked at him. This man had changed him for the better and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He would ask him, in time.

“Just how much I love you,” he said.

Bucky smiled, bright and hopeful, just as the sun broke through the clouds.  
  
  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this fic that I've been chipping away at for what feels like forever. Thank you for sticking with me and my terrible updates!
> 
> Also, a huge apology as I've been terrible with keeping up with answering comments. I always try and respond but things have been so busy that it's fallen by the wayside. When deadlines are less severe and being a mother calms down a little (laughs and sobs), I'll be tearing through them.
> 
> In the meantime, I've been dying to do a bed-sharing fic for ages.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic: Stay and the night would be enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831772) by [ForeverShippingJohnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverShippingJohnlock/pseuds/ForeverShippingJohnlock)




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